Supernova
by tysunkete
Summary: AU Pre-Imitation Black. She was his best friend, confidant, listener, adviser — and also the keeper of his heart. But he didn't mind being just friends...that's what he told himself. Allena.
1. Spacebound

_It's like an explosion every time I hold ya_

_Wasn't jokin' when I told ya_

_You take my breath away_

_You're a __**supernova**_

_And I'm a…_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One: Spacebound<strong>

* * *

><p>"Wake up, kid," Cross's deep rumble shook him out of his light slumber, before the scent of a cigarette smoke filled his lungs. "Get out before I kick your ass."<p>

"…Ugh," he coughed, fanning the smoke away from his face. "Could you light up _after_ I get off?" he asked, frowning.

"I don't repeat myself, brat," the man purposely blew a ring of smoke into his face for the hell for it. "You're going to be late."

Allen grimaced. At the age of ten, he was going to attend his first school and first school _lesson_, ever. In his life. It wasn't normal—he had a lot of things not normal for him, and having Cross as a guardian was the top of the list—but it couldn't be helped because he had _circumstances_. Anyway, he wasn't too sure when Cross decided he was ready to get an education—probably got sick of him at home more likely—but here he was, staring at the pristine white walls of his new school.

"What are you waiting for—Christmas?" Cross snorted, tapping his gloved hand on the steering wheel of his car. "If you're _scared_," the red haired man smirked, "I could walk you in."

"_No_," he huffed, opening the car door and slipped out, his dirty converses touching the pavement. He shut the door with more force than necessary, sending the other a glare. "I'm not…scared," he declared as defiantly as he could, but the edge in his voice was heard clearly well.

Cross eyed the scar that practically tore apart the younger boy's face, and then shifted his attention to the deformed red arm that was exposed due to the short sleeves and back to the uneasy expression on Allen's face.

"Well," Cross smirked, flicking his charge's head. "Given your height, you won't even be seen."

"Thanks a lot, Shishou," Allen snorted, puffing up his cheeks and turning away to trudge towards the building.

"Don't get dunked in the toilet!" his guardian snorted after him, calling loudly, purposely catching the attention of all the other school kids making their way in the same direction.

"….Sod off!"

* * *

><p>"Hey, did you see that kid?"<p>

"Dude—check out his arm!"

"No, his _face_!"

Why didn't he wear a hoodie to school anyway?

Oh yeah—the school had a uniform rule to follow. It was the same everywhere. Anywhere he stepped, there would be hushed whisperings, or sometimes more vocal exclamations of how strange he looked. But he didn't have a choice. It wasn't like he _chose_ to have a deformed arm, nor did he _choose_ to have the prominent red scar that practically slashed his eye.

Allen smiled uneasily to himself, trying not to make himself seen, but that was rather pointless as he was the only odd one standing in front of his assigned class. All curious eyes were drawn to him, and most likely everything weird, _defective_, about him. He sort of regretted Cross's offer at the moment.

"Class," The teacher, his form, probably, came to pat him on the shoulder. "This is your new classmate, Allen Walker. He's just transferred from London, so be sure to be nice to him."

He refrained from correcting that he actually lived in Japan for a year already, but that was redundant information anyway. He still spoke with an accent, and his Japanese wasn't exactly adequate for someone of his age.

"Is there anything else you'd like to add, Allen-kun?" his teacher smiled at him, but his noticed the same curious stare at his scar.

"No," he mumbled, lowering his head so that his brown hair would shadow his face.

"Alright, take a seat at the last table over there."

Allen glanced towards the direction in which his seat was, noting that there were a lot of bags to by step to get there. He tried to be as careful as possible, keeping a straight face when everyone so obviously stared at him—especially the arm, and he self consciously rubbed it, cursing the short sleeves—until he was one table away when he tripped.

Actually, he knew someone had purposely stuck a foot out, because he did not just trip over thin air. Luckily he managed to catch himself before he fell embarrassingly flat on the ground, and he heard a disappointed snort coming from the person seated diagonally to him.

Settling down and smiling like nothing happened, the attention finally shifted back to the teacher whom was already starting the lesson.

Still, he felt eyes glancing at him every now and then.

It was barely five minutes into his first school day, and he hated it already.

* * *

><p>…..<em>Poink<em>.

Allen twitched an eye.

.._Poink_.

Another.

_Poink_.

Anoth—

He snatched the paper ball that had sailed across the room with the intention of hitting his head again out of the air and smoothed it out on his table.

_**FREAK**_**.**

Calmly, he folded the paper into a neat small rectangle, and placed it at the corner of his desk. He was barely listening to the lesson—and judging by the numbers of the white board, he figured it was math, but he didn't even understand half the words that his teacher was rattling over and over. He knew how to count money, and that's what math was for right? So why did he have to learn about circles and diagrams that would never have helped him survive in the streets?

But then, circumstances were different as they were.

Things had changed a lot over the years, and now he was living with one insufferable guardian.

Sometimes it was better to be out in the streets again.

With _Mana_.

* * *

><p>Cross raised an eyebrow when his charge ambled dejectedly along the pavement to reach his car after school. The boy was dripping wet, and he knew for sure it hadn't rained at all.<p>

"Wait, hold up, brat," he snapped when Allen made to sit in the passenger seat. "You're not getting my car wet."

In fact, on closer inspection, even the kid's school _bag_ was wet—

"Did you really get dunked in the toilet?"

"N-_no_!" Allen scowled, his cute adolescent face scrunching up in denial.

"Then what's with the I-just-got-bullied neon sign on your head?" Cross demanded, crossing his arms. "I never raised you to be such a weakling."

"…You never raised me," Allen muttered, shuffling his shoes. Water had collected in his shoes and there were making the most uncomfortable feeling in his toes.

"Shut up, I feed and clothe you," Cross frowned. "Get in the car, brat."

Truthfully, he did expect some shit to be going on in the brat's first day at school, especially since he himself could never understand the weird scar and arm, and he wasn't even mentioning the fact that Allen was British. At the immature age ten, he obviously expected some kind of _reaction_ his classmates would have at the scrawny kid. But honestly he had expected the kid who had once lived in the streets to put up more of a fight.

And seeing that dejected resigned flat stare on the young boy pissed him off more.

"I'm not sending you to school to get smacked around," Cross grumbled, stepping on the accelerator to head home. "You can get a lesson like that home—for free."

"Shishou, I am not being…b-builled!"

"You don't even sound like you believe yourself," his guardian rolled his eyes. "See kid, when you have a problem—admit it, and half the battle is won,"

Allen frowned keeping quiet. "They just…don't like me," he eventually muttered. "That's all."

* * *

><p>"I'm telling you, Lee," his guardian insisted, tapping his cigarette on the edge of a vase of flowers causing the ashes to fall in the water. Allen pitied the poor the plant. "The brat's a fucking wimp! I don't know how he's such a smart mouth with me and yet he's getting his pants pulled down in school—"<p>

"My pants are fine!" he protested with indignantly, mortified at how Cross was over exaggerating his situation to some total stranger.

At least, the bespectacled Chinese man seated across them was a stranger to him. Apparently this man, Komui Lee, if he heard correctly—because Cross barely bothered with introductions and made himself at home the moment he stepped through the front door—was a colleague of Cross' specialising in robotic science.

"Well, I'm sure he—" Komui started, then realised he actually didn't even know the name of the young ten year old sitting on his couch. "What is your name?" he asked, looking intrigued.

"Allen—Allen Walker," Allen replied unsurely, but eased when the man smiled at back him.

"I'm sure Allen's a great kid, Marian," The Chinese said pushing up his glasses. "And if you're so concerned, bring it up with the school board."

"Pah," Cross sniffed. "I'm telling the brat to stand up for his fucking weak self. I don't see why I have to get involved with the kid's problems."

"You are in charge of Allen now," Komui sighed. "Be more responsible. You can't give up on everything you find troublesome," he gave the other an eye roll. "Like your _job_."

"I'm tired of doing good shit, Lee," Cross took another drag, and Allen just sat impassively staring into space while the adults talked about work. "The cases have been fucking boring and the last good one made me pick up this piece of baggage," he flickered his eyes towards his charge who huffed. "There aren't any hot ladies in this department either,"

Komui shook his head. "And you think the fashion industry is any better?"

Cross raised an eyebrow. "Models—female. Speaking of which, isn't your little kid doing some part-time modelling now? If I had a piece of _that_ in forensics—"

The calm deposition of the Chinese man practically turned 180 degrees, shocking the hell out of Allen.

"Don't you dare dirty my precious little sister with your womanising lips!" Komui screeched indignantly, but Cross ignored him.

"Say, where's your—"

"Nii-san?"

Allen blinked, noting that the light girlish voice couldn't have came from any of the three of them. He turned slightly, facing the stairs where a girl with two pigtails squatted at the railing, looking curiously at all of them.

"You didn't tell me you had guests over."

"Lenalee, go back to your room," Komui pleaded.

"Nii-san," the girl was already walking down the steps frowning. "It's rude to not greet the guests," she chided her brother firmly, whilst the said brother was frantically trying to shoo her away. "And you didn't even serve them tea!"

"See," Cross smirked, "That's what I call _service_."

"You are not getting any _service_!" Komui insisted, horrified. "Lenalee, dear, leave the two disgusting _males_ alone, they are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves."

Lenalee merely disappeared into the kitchen and came out a few seconds later carrying a tray of cups of tea and set it on the table for them.

"Little Lee," Cross ignored how his college was now fighting with the girl to take the tray, "You've got any booze around here?"

"M-_marian_!" Komui coughed, practically ripping the tray from his youngest sister's grasp. "You're defiling her innocence—" then he shrieked, snatching the lit cigarette from Cross' fingers. "Lenalee! Hold your breath and go back to your room! Now!"

"It's just a bit of smoke—"

"I will not let you taint her lungs any longer—Lenalee! Room!"

"Nii-san!" Lenalee tried to protest, but her brother was already pushing her by the back to go back up the steps from whence she came.

But amidst the shrieking she noticed two eyes watching her silently from the couch. It was a young boy with a cute crop of brown hair sitting quietly in the commotion, looking at her and her brother with an almost longing expression. The look disappeared the moment they locked eyes, and the boy gave her a slight unsure smile.

"Hey," she called, smiling. "Do you want to come and play with me?"

She could tell the boy brightened up almost immediately at the prospect, but then faltered, glancing at the larger red-haired man once as if for permission.

"As long as it's not Barbies, brat," the man scoffed, snickering to himself. "I don't need you to be any gayer than you already are,"

The boy automatically scowled, pushing himself off the couch and kicking his guardian in the shin.

"—you kick like a girl!"

A red flush covered the boy's face as he stalked angrily towards the stairs. Lenalee chuckled in amusement, grinning.

"Come on," she gestured, making her way happily up the stairs.

Komui sighed watching his sister trod up finally. But before the young charge of his colleague brushed past him up the stairs, he caught the boy's arm and leaned closer, glasses glinting with a dark promise.

"If you ever touch her or so much as _look_ at her the wrong way—I'll castrate you," he hissed seriously. "Got that?"

Allen never once feared his life so much.

"...Y-yes sir!"

* * *

><p>The room he entered could definitely not be mistaken for anyone else's room but a girl's. From top to toe, it was coloured <em>pink<em>—and with frills along the sides as well. Soft toys lined the comfy bed, and even the carpet was in a shape of a unicorn. But despite the over decoration of the room, Allen found it to be more comfortable than the living room in which he had sat awkwardly between two adults.

The girl who had called him up to play sat on her carpet happily, pulling herself closer to a low table where a spread of magazines where laid. Allen closed the door behind him lightly, seating himself in front of her.

"Hey," the girl blinked slowly at him, a wide smile on her lips. "I'm Lenalee Lee! What's your name? How old are you? Are you from overse—" she stopped abruptly, realising that she hadn't given him the chance to answer at all.

"I'm Allen," he eventually answered, smiling uneasily. "I'm ten, this year,"

"Ten?" Lenalee echoed disbelievingly. "But you're so small, I thought you were _seven_ for sure!"

It was true that he was even shorter and smaller in size than the girl, but that did not warrant her for making fun of his age. He scowled, but Lenalee just beamed wider. She stared at him for a while, scrutinising his face and truthfully he felt slightly intimidated by it, because no one really ever stared at him so blatantly.

Then he realised she must have been too repulsed by his scar to react, and he quickly slapped a hand over it.

"Sorry," he grimaced, turning away.

But to his shock, Lenalee grabbed his wrist and yanked it away. "Don't do that," she chided, coming closer to him. "Your eyes are _grey_ in colour! They're so pretty!"

It was the first time anyone said his eyes were _pretty_ and he blinked like an idiot for a minute.

"…Excuse me?"

"Your eyes," Lenalee leaned closer, peering right back in his vision. "They remind me of crystals…"

"But I thought…" he gestured vaguely to his scar.

She leaned back and scrutinised the red mark that cut all the way down to Allen's cheek, fascinated by the deep colour and pattern of it. "…Kind of looks like a tattoo doesn't it?" she muttered more to herself.

"It's not…"

"Allen," she suddenly smiled, snapping her fingers. "You didn't tell me where you were from!"

Allen was a little taken back by how quickly the topic shifted, because he was so sure that she was going to ask about where he got his scar from, or at least stare at it a little longer. But thankfully, this girl, Lenalee, just seemed interested in knowing _him_, rather than knowing about his physical imperfections.

"I'm from London," he replied. "I came here about a year ago…with Shishou."

"That man downstairs?" she mused. "You don't seem to like him very much."

"He's a jerk, most of the time," he agreed, and she laughed lightly.

"But he's treating you well, isn't he?"

True, Cross didn't have any obligation to take him in, yet he did. "I guess," he admitted grudgingly, and Lenalee beamed wider. "But it's nothing compared to your brother."

"I know," she smiled fondly. "That's why while he does the most unnecessary things, I still love him."

She suddenly stood up and brushed the dress she was wearing. "What do you want to play, Allen?" she asked. "We can play a board game, but then there are only two of us…" she walked over to the cupboards and opened it. "I have card games too, or maybe we could—Allen! Don't just sit there. Come!"

He acceded, going over to stand awkwardly—he noticed he _really_ was shorter than her—next to her.

"Don't look so stiff. Make yourself at home here," Lenalee gave him a grin, patting his shoulder. "We're friends now right?"

In all honest truth, that thought of _friends_ didn't even cross his mind.

"…I am?"

"Of course you are!" she looked at him incredulously.

Wasn't this a bit too abrupt? Considering he had been at school for three months now and all he got were stares or sneers, he hadn't exactly held a civil conversation with anyone except his teachers, and thus the idea of a friend…was a bit hard to comprehend.

"But I'm…" Allen mumbled. "_Different_."

"Different?" she echoed. "Everyone is born to be different, isn't it? Well,_ I_ wouldn't want to be someone else," she declared.

"You don't understand," he shook his head, rubbing his sleeve clad arm consciously. "I…look _weird_, I know,"

"Really?" she hummed. "You look pretty normal to me. Except the scar, but well, I think it looks good on you."

Not sure of the reason why, but suddenly he was determined to prove her wrong. He didn't look _normal_, and certainly didn't look _good_—he knew because of all the kids who whispered behind his back, because of all the strangers who avoided him in the streets, because he was labelled a freak everywhere he went.

He pulled off the glove he was wearing on left hand, pushing the sleeve up in the fluid motion, almost thrusting the scarred appendage in her face. Even he himself had to wince at how unnatural his arm looked—all bumpy with some blood red tissue and even the long black nails at the fingernails which just looked scary.

Lenalee was staring at his arm with widened eyes and he realised he probably shouldn't have done that, because he's barely met the girl a few minutes ago and he was already scaring away someone that could possibly be his first ever friend.

"…Can I touch it?"

His mouth dropped ever so slightly at the question, thinking it was a joke. It had to be.

"Allen, can I touch it?" Lenalee asked again, sounding excited, even.

"Um, okay," there wasn't really an answer he could give, because no one ever wanted to _touch_ his arm—and he certainly never wanted to either.

He expected her to prod it and shy away immediately, but she did none of that. Lenalee clasped her hands around his mutilated hand first, occasionally putting pressures at certain points until it felt like she was massaging his limb.

"Can you feel?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "It's exactly the same as my other good one, just that it looks…" he coughed uncomfortably, and then jumped in shock when her hands brushed a spot at his elbow.

"Sorry," he ruffled his hair. "I didn't mean to—"

But Lenalee only laughed, eyes crinkling in amusement and a large smile was upon her lips. Her chuckles trickled gaily to his ears, her cheeks flushed with childish joy.

"You're ticklish!" she grinned.

He didn't even know he had a sensitive spot on his arm. "Lenalee!" he protested, trying to wave the hands that tried to tickle him again. He blushed when she just laughed harder at his flustered deposition.

"You're so cute," she commented, grinning.

Allen turned away, hiding his expression. "You're the first person to say that to me," he said after a moment. "Everyone else thinks I'm different."

It was then he realised that Lenalee was probably the most accepting person he's ever come across, because all she did was to frown thoughtfully for a few moments before crossing her arms defiantly.

"Well, if they think you're different, then show them how _different_ you really are!"

* * *

><p>It was about a month later when he found himself pushed into the school fountain for the nth time of the year that he decided to take Lenalee's advice. He knew he was different—in many ways—but somehow he just understood what the girl had been trying to say. Without a thought of regret he bought a bottle of bleach and emerged from the bathroom one Saturday afternoon, walking into his living room feeling lighter than ever.<p>

"Are we going out for lunch, Shishou?" he asked, smiling and patting his stomach because the dye job did make him feel hungry.

"Brat, we just ate—" Cross paused the remote he was pressing toward the television in midair when his line of vision drew towards his charge—and then promptly dropped it in incredulity. "Holy fucking shit—holy fucking _shit_!" he stared at the now snowy white crop of hair the younger boy sported. "My god, what the _fuck_ did you do to your hair!" he demanded, pushing himself off the couch and grabbing the boy by the collar. "What the hell?"

"I just...dyed it," Allen scowled, trying to take off the grip of the elder man on his collar, because it was choking him. "No need to get your trousers in a twist, Shishou."

Cross breathed calmly, suddenly remembering that he actually didn't care what the brat did to himself. Was he being a paranoid overprotective guardian? Over his dead body. But still, he mused, eyeing the whiteness of it all…

"You look like a gay old man," he snorted. "You know girls don't dig that kind of shit."

Allen huffed. "I wasn't waiting for your opinion."

"Wait till your schoolmates see you," his guardian smirked, dropping him on the floor without remorse. "I sure as hell don't know what you were going for, brat, but I assure you you're asking for a wedgie."

* * *

><p>"Allen-kun, I'm sure you're aware that it is against the school rules to dye your hair, especially in such an…outstanding colour," his teacher frowned uneasily.<p>

"Oh no, Ma'am," he smiled innocently. "It was my guardian's fault, you see," he continued convincingly. "He accidently mixed up the bottles of shampoo and bleach—and we can't spare on hair dye because we're on a tight living budget…but I'm sure it will go away naturally."

"…I see," his teacher smiled sympathetically. "Well, try not to stand out."

Allen only nodded, knowing how redundant that statement was. He let himself out of the office with a polite bow, excusing himself. Well, he expected more trouble for his actions, but then, he could easily weasel himself out. Unfortunately, there were things he had been trying to avoid, yet unable to.

"Hey, weirdo!" Someone called from across the corridor, and he sighed, turning around.

"Yes?"

"What's up with the stupid hair?" a classmate of his, he recognised but never knew the name of—he didn't think he had to, considering none of them never bothered to use his—called. "It makes you look like the freak of nature that you really are."

"…"

"Oi!"

"…"

Allen only smiled.

"W-what the fuck is up with you?" his classmate slowly demanded, starting to get freaked out by the lack of protest or retort. "D…d…demon!" the other finally managed, backing away when a shiver a chill settled in his bones with the look Allen was sporting.

With the white crop of hair, pale skin and grey eyes that only stared back impassively with the ironical serene smile on his lips, he looked downright _creepy_.

It seemed like everyone thought so too, because no one tried to call him out again.

And he was glad for that.

* * *

><p>Lenalee was at the door to greet him the next time he got dragged to the Lee's residence—because Cross was too lazy to feed him dinner, and thus they shall head over and freeload on someone else.<p>

"Allen—your hair!" she exclaimed, eyes wide and surprised.

"He looks fucking gay," Cross immediately said, smirking. "Be sure to tell him that, little Lee, maybe the brat will snap out of his faggot daydream."

Allen rolled his eyes, shoving his guardian into the house. "Shut up."

"Marian—" there came an indignant scream from the kitchen somewhere inside the house. "Mind your language! My darling sister doesn't need to have her ears defiled!"

"Oh come off it, Lee," the red haired man snorted, barging into the house. "Your kid's old enough to learn the ways of the real world—"

Cross disappeared into the abode, leaving Allen and Lenalee at the door.

"So, what happened?" she asked, turning back to eye the white wisps on her friend's head.

"I kind of bleached it," he shrugged sheepishly, taking off his shoes. "Does…does it look weird?" he asked, and he sounded almost insecure.

It was ironic, because he knew he stood out even more with the odd choice in colour, yet he had been so adamant that it was the right thing to do. Considering how he was left alone now—he really preferred that over the unwanted attention he usually got—there wasn't much reason to doubt his decision. But for some reason, he wanted Lenalee's approval.

Lenalee rubbed her chin thoughtfully, but a wide smile gave way to her thoughts.

"It's _awesome_," she declared, beaming.

Perhaps, that was when he first felt a little flutter in his chest.

* * *

><p><strong>Owari<strong>.

Maybe I kind of failed because it was supposed to be serious and sad but I just cannot write it serious and sad? UGH.

Anyway. For those of you who haven't read **Imitation Black**, I encourage you to read it first to get a better picture as a whole, but this story can be read on its own as well because I will not be bringing in any OCs.


	2. Rocketship

_It's like an explosion every time I hold ya_

_Wasn't jokin' when I told ya_

_You take my breath away_

_You're a __**supernova**_

_And I'm a spacebound—_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter two: Rocketship<strong>

* * *

><p>"…Is this truly necessary?" Allen asked, slightly put off at how he wasn't entitled to his opinion.<p>

"Yes," Cross smirked, dragging a smoke from his cigarette. "Quite bitching and get in the car, brat!"

"But I can take care of myself!" he protested. "I'm already _eleven_—"

"I thought you were _six_," his infuriating guardian paused, and then the taunting expression darkened. "No means no, kid. You're definitely not legal to stay alone at home for a week, and I sure as hell don't want those fucking custodians coming after me because you wet the bed."

Allen's face was flushed an unhealthy red.

"Get in the car," Cross tapped the steering wheel impatiently. "Or I'll ground you."

"That's not much of a threat considering you are _abandoning_ me," he sulked, clambering into the front seat with reluctance.

Cross rolled his eyes at the dramatics. "I sure as hell ain't _abandoning_ you. I'm just leaving for a while to sort out the new job."

Oh yes, how could Allen forget the day where in Cross slammed the front door open with great gusto and the most smug expression—perhaps happy—that he ever witnessed on the womanizing bastard face, the red haired man declared that he finally quit his quote fucking quote job.

That included a mental breakdown for Allen because there were _debts_ to cover and his guardian wasn't getting paid and he was still wasting it on booze and women and oh my god he was going to have to do odd jobs or sell himself—but Cross waved off his worries like it didn't even matter.

(It did.)

A month later his school called to say his fees weren't paid and he knew Cross was just wasting his life away in the brothel. He complained this to Lenalee in passing over the phone one day, and that led to Komui being dragged in the situation—and finally Cross realised the brat wasn't lying at that they _were_ running low on money.

So, it ended up to the current situation where he was going to be carted off to the Lee's residence like a pet while Cross insisted he had to attend to god knows what for his new career. Allen only knew Cross was trying to enter the fashion industry, but he didn't know exactly what his guardian was trying to do. Considering Cross was formerly a forensic scientist, the sudden change in industry was totally _off_, and he was so convinced that Cross was going to fail and end up with more debts.

"I thought you like Lee's kid," Cross was saying as they drove towards the Lee's residence.

He did.

Lenalee and he had gotten closer over the next few months—most of the time it was because Cross kept bitching to Komui about his godforsaken job, and it was much better playing _Monopoly_ or _Game of Life_ with her than to listen to his guardian insult him. They even shared the same tastes in music, and once Komui stumbled upon them sharing headphones and he got the fright of his life when a mini robot started to chase him out of nowhere. Thankfully Lenalee wasn't too pleased at the disturbance and managed to shoo the robot and her brother away.

"Lenalee's fine," he agreed. _But her brother isn't. "_But…aren't we freeloading too much on them?"

"Oh Little Lee volunteered for you, so be grateful," Cross shrugged. If someone wanted to take care of his burden voluntarily, then he was all for it.

Allen smiled at the sentence, because it just showed how Lenalee was so entirely generous to a fault. He couldn't really comprehend how unselfish the girl was—right from the start when he met her, she was all smiles and warmth. And then as he talked to her more, she only ever made him laugh, made him forget that he looked _different_. She didn't mind the scar, the arm, or the now blindingly distracting white hair. In fact, she even suggested to him to dye his eyebrows white (a part where he overlooked), and grinned brighter when he returned the next time following her suggestion.

But staying with her—at her house—drew a bit of hesitation.

She was his friend, perhaps his first and only friend, but was he really _that_ close with her? Close enough to the point that he was staying over…and for a week at that? It felt weird, suddenly to intrude on her private life, and then there was Komui who now seemed to throw him suspicious looks when Lenalee wasn't looking.

"We're here," Cross suddenly announced, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Allen helped himself out of the car, and stumbled when his bag of clothes hit him roughly in the chest.

"Now, I don't want Lee crying to me about how you're such a brat and begging me to take you home—because I won't," his guardian warned, and Allen huffed his cheeks. "I'll be back in a few days."

"Yes, Shishou," he mumbled dejectedly.

Cross paused for a moment. "…I'm not going to get gunned and die."

"…I know."

* * *

><p>The first two days went past faster than he expected. Komui dropped him off at school before heading towards Lenalee's school, he managed to catch the bus back and had dinner with the Lee family. It was almost unnervingly normal how they ate with comfortable banter at the dining table—and it certainly felt like he had a <em>family<em>.

Komui had repeated again his threat about having impure thoughts of his precious sister to which he vehemently denied—he was only _eleven_ for god's sake, he wasn't Cross—and Komui didn't set another robot after him even if he was playing a card game with Lenalee alone in the living room.

He was given quite generously a room of his own—it was rather small considering it wasn't meant to be used as a guest room but it was doable, and he wasn't about to complain when he was being fed and sheltered for free.

If only he had met the Lees when he was out in the streets—he would have given anything for decent food and shelter.

* * *

><p>On the third day after dinner, Lenalee dragged him to her room.<p>

"Allen, what do you think of this?" Lenalee smiled at him sweetly, holding up a white shirt.

But the said shirt had a sort of ruffles at the collar with a bit of lace, and frankly it he didn't think it would look good on him, even if Lenalee was shoving it in front of him whilst smiling at the mirror reflection. Allen coughed, trying to think of a way to decline such that he wouldn't break her enthusiasm.

"It's…too girly," he eventually responded, making his tone light in order not to offend.

Lenalee chuckled, bringing the shirt in front of her. "On me, silly," she shook her head at his indignant cough that he did not just make an embarrassing mistake. "What do you think?"

Now that he looked properly, the collar was done much like a lolita fashion that certainly couldn't have been for males. Lenalee was waiting expectantly for his answer as she blinked owlishly at him.

"…Cu—"

"Lenalee!" Komui shrieked from the open door of Lenalee's room, causing both of them to jump for neither heard the door open. "What are you doing?" he asked suspiciously, eyeing his little sister and the boy who stood awkwardly next to her.

"I'm just asking Allen for his opinion," Lenalee replied with a sigh, trooping towards the door. "Nii-san, can you stop barging in every ten minutes?"

"But Lenalee—" Komui tried to protest, but under the unimpressed look the younger Lee was sending him, he faltered. "I'm just trying to make sure that this _boy_—"

"Allen is not doing anything but giving me advice," she insisted, shooing her brother out. "Don't you have work to do?"

"But—"

"Are you trying to procrastinate your paperwork again?"

"Lena—"

"Nii-san!"

Almost like a kicked puppy, Komui grudgingly shut the door and left them alone in the room. Allen let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, rubbing his deformed arm out of habit.

"Sorry about that," Lenalee apologised, taking back her place next to him. "He gets a little overbearing, but I can tell he's warming up to you."

A little overbearing was quite an understatement actually. He envied her a lot—to have someone that cared for her so blatantly. But still, she had brother who loved her till the point where it was nearly suffocating, and the amazing thing was that she didn't exactly complain, instead, it was like she treasured it all.

"So you think this is fine?" Lenalee asked again, looking thoughtfully at her reflection. "Or this?" she rummaged in her closet and pulled out a similar shirt, but this time in black.

Allen really didn't get where she was going with this asking him for fashion advice, so he settled for asking. "What is this for?"

"Oh! I must've been worrying about it so much that I forgot to tell you," Lenalee grinned sheepishly, hanging both shirts back into the closet. "I'm actually going for an audition tomorrow," she explained. "A modelling audition," she elaborated at his blank look. "I've gotten a few gigs here and there but I'm still not that good where they'd pick me immediately…" she trailed off. "But anyway, I'm going to try my best!"

Allen nodded slowly, recalling that Lenalee was doing some part time modelling. "It is hard?"

"Modelling?" Lenalee mused, thinking thoughtfully. "It gets tiring sometimes. But I like wearing new clothes, and I like being in front of the camera. It's kind of fun," she glanced towards her closed door and lowered her tone. "Actually, I was thinking of quitting school to go into modelling full time," she admitted.

"Wow," Allen blinked. "That's pretty serious."

"Uh-huh. Nii-san will throw a fit but…"

"…But it's something you really want to do?" he supplied helpfully.

"Yeah," she shot him a brilliant smile. "I just feel this is _it_ for me, you know?"

"Hmm…" he couldn't exactly say he understood, because he didn't' really know what he wanted to do with his life. "It must be nice to know what you want to do...I'm sure you'll do great and be famous."

"Really?"

"Sure," he replied smiling. "You're pretty, Lenalee. And it's hard not to like you."

Lenalee raised an eyebrow at him. "You're just saying that to flatter me, aren't you? Trying to get into my good books before I get famous?" she teased, nudging his ribs.

"Just don't forget your first supporter when you do," he grinned back.

She chuckled, a wide smile on her lips. "Thank you, Allen."

* * *

><p>When she came home skipping through the front door the next day, he couldn't help but grin, and it was the first time she hugged him—so tightly, that he forgot to breathe.<p>

Though, that could be because of something else.

* * *

><p><em>He was running.<em>

"_MANA!" he screamed, shoving people out of the way on the streets. "MANA!"_

_But the hustle and bustle of the crowded roads drowned out his shouts, and he couldn't see anything except the rain blurring his vision, and the wet coats of people brushing against him. Still, he was desperately searching…searching…because he knew the one he was looking for was somewhere _here_; he had to be. _

"_Allen…"_

_He whipped around frantically, dead sure that he had heard a familiar voice, Mana's voice—and suddenly it was just so clear to him. Just a few steps away, his father figure was lying in a pool of blood, dark red blood that was steadily pooling._

_With shaky steps he found himself kneeling down, stepping right into the blood pool._

"_Mana…" he whispered, touching the figure._

_He wanted so badly to reach out and touch the other's face—to see for one last time—but why couldn't he stretch his arm out any further? Why couldn't he see Mana's face?_

"_Don't look back, Allen," Mana rumbled, coughing. "Just…keep walking forward…"_

_He didn't even know he was crying until he couldn't see anything because tears were clouding his vision._

"_Go."_

"_B-but I don't want to!" he yelled, sobbing._

"_Allen…"_

_Allen._

"…Allen!"

Allen jerked violently awake when he fell off his bed, crashing painfully onto the stone cold floor. He groaned, rubbing his ribs where most of the impact had landed.

"I'm sorry! Are you okay?"

"Huh?" he blinked, moaning when he realised a bruise was forming on his shin. "What?" then he nearly shrieked when he came face to face with someone else."…L-lenalee! What are you…" he choked. "What are you doing here?"

Indeed, what was Lenalee doing in his or rather, the guest room—he gave a glance about to check—at this hour?

"Sorry," Lenalee mumbled, squatting down beside him. "I…I couldn't sleep so I thought you might be awake…"

"Oh," he replied, blinking. "But it's… two thirty one—"

"I had a nightmare," she confessed, shifting closer to him. "I didn't want to wake Nii-san…and…and I thought you might…I'm sorry…"

Lenalee looked rather scared and distressed, very different from the smiley happy girl he interacted with. He noted she was crouching next to him while he leaned against his bed still rubbing his ribs—and he knew he couldn't leave her alone.

"Do you want something to eat?" he asked, because when he couldn't sleep, eating made it better.

She shook her head. "I just don't want to be alone."

Allen nodded, pulling his legs up.

"I'm sorry for waking you up," Lenalee apologised again. "But you were shifting a lot in your sleep…and…"

He rubbed his neck uncomfortably. "Well…"

"Bad dream too?"

He couldn't exactly lie, so he just nodded. "Yeah."

"Can I…" she was fidgeting a bit, and she shuffled closer to him. "Can I tell you about mine?"

"Um, sure," what else could he say? "Only if you want to," he added cautiously when Lenalee bit her lip hesitantly.

"I…was from China," she began with a small voice. "When I was very young, I was chosen to train as a national gymnast. It's a very great honour for the family...and my parents were all for it. But they didn't know what they did to us. Training was…" she visibly shuddered. "…_tough_."

She had grabbed his hand and she was squeezing it tightly, shaking like she was scared. Allen grimaced, truly hoping that she wouldn't start to cry—because she looked like she was going to—and he awkwardly starting to pat her hand.

"Nii-san managed to get me out and we immigrated here to Japan…" she continued in a quiet voice. "I keep dreaming of the times I was forced to bend over and over again. I don't ever want to go back."

By now she was clinging to his arm, and he gripped her hand back in assurance. "You won't, Lenalee," he tried to be as comforting as possible, but he hadn't actually had experience in comforting anyone. "Your brother is here with you. In Japan. Everything is okay."

She nodded, and after a few silent minutes it seemed as though she had calmed down considerably.

"Actually to confess," she started again, this time sounding stronger. "It's not the first time I saw you shifting in your sleep," she looked at him. "All the other times weren't too obvious, but sometimes you'd say something like _Mana_…"

Perhaps his smile looked a little too forced, because Lenalee dropped her gaze. "Sorry."

"It's okay," he replied after a while.

Neither of them spoke after that. Lenalee hadn't let go of his arm, and he found it wasn't exactly uncomfortable to have her leaning on him for support. Time passed, and he didn't know he was zoning out until he heard Lenalee mumble something and shift a bit—then he realised she had fallen asleep.

He just wondered what Komui would say if he found his precious sister snoozing on him—and all possible theories didn't seem very good for him. He tried to ease her off as gently as possible, but she was gripping his arm too tightly to let go.

Giving up, he decided that perhaps he could explain his way out tomorrow.

It was already four plus in the morning, yet as he tried to doze off again, he just couldn't.

His heart was beating way too fast for it to be normal.

* * *

><p>It turned out that Cross dumped him at the Lee's for two weeks instead of one, but his guardian eventually returned. He missed staying at the Lees, because Lenalee kept him company all the time and even Komui was rather hospitable to him at the times the Chinese man wasn't giving him suspicious looks.<p>

"Brat, you've gotten fatter," was the first thing Cross said to him when they reached back home.

"That's because they _fed_ me," he retorted in reply.

"Don't get smart with me kid," his guardian replied. "I feed you too. Now shut up and clean the house. It's fucking dusty."

Considering no one had cleaned it for the past two weeks, it was to be expected. Allen grumbled, reluctantly heading towards the storeroom to get a broom to start with the floor. He not so subtly glared at the older man who just plonked himself on the couch and lit a cigarette.

"I bet you didn't do anything," Allen muttered under his breath, storming past Cross with the broom stick.

"What's with that look?" Cross eyed him across the room, raising an eyebrow. "Are you sulking just because I took you away from your crush?"

"I am not sulking!" he grounded back exasperatedly in reply, even though he was clearly sulking at how he was being forced to be a maid the moment he stepped home. "And what crush are you talking about?"

Cross smirked. "I saw the way you were eyeing Little Lee after she hugged you—" he started convincingly, watching his charge drop the broom in utter shock. "Now what did you two do? Have _sex_?"

Allen spluttered—with a good reason. "S-SHISHOU!"

"What?" Cross blinked, taking another drag.

"Lenalee is—we didn't—I don't know why you even thought of _that_!" Allen groaned, picking up his forgotten broom. He wasn't even in the mood to clean anything now.

"Easy," the older men replied as thought obvious. "You were staring at her like she was god's gift to men."

"I-I was not!" Of course he wasn't, because if that even happened, Komui would have cut off his head and fed it to the vultures.

"Hey kid—" Cross snorted. "I didn't teach you to be a goddamn wimpy brat who can't even admit his own feelings."

"I like Lenalee as a _friend_," Allen insisted just so his guardian would get the point. "Why do you care about who I like anyway?"

"I don't," Cross shrugged. "I just think you look fucking pathetic when you try to insist you don't like her."

"Go away."

"Fuck you too, kid."

* * *

><p>There was just no way Allen liked Lenalee in the way Cross was insisting—his guardian was just a prick who loved to make fun of him. Moreover he'd only known Lenalee close to a year, and he certainly hadn't had any thoughts to ask her out or anything, and perhaps the most important point of all was that he was <em>eleven<em>.

He didn't think at eleven years old, he could even _like_ someone romantically.

Lenalee was just a very good friend. A close friend. And perhaps his only friend. It was natural that he treasured her a lot, and of course he was slightly unsure when Lenalee started to gush about one of her own childhood friends.

"I can't wait for you two to meet!" she was saying excitedly to him over her dinner table—he had frequently went over for breakfast ever since the holidays started, and it was an easy escape from a drunkard Cross. "He's a childhood friend of mine—now he's in high school so I don't really get to see him much these days. But he promised me he'll drop by today, so I can introduce you guys to each other!"

Allen looked unsure, touching his scar on his face.

"He won't care about that," she promised. "Okay, maybe, he might comment on it, but he doesn't mean the stuff he says. He's really nice person, I promise!"

"If you say so, Lenalee," Allen replied, relaxing a little.

He was certain he could trust Lenalee, after all, if she was close to this person, that that person couldn't really be that bad.

Oh how wrong he was.

The doorbell rang, and Lenalee jumped excitedly. "I'll get it!" she announced enthusiastically, skipping over to the door and swinging it open.

She was blocking Allen's view from the table, but he saw that she jumped and hugged whoever it was. "Kanda-kun! It's great to see you again!"

There was a low grunt. "Get off me."

Lenalee only chuckled and released the other. "Same as always," she smiled, turning back to Allen. "Allen! Come over!"

Hesitantly, he did so, and he stopped when he saw the person he was supposed to meet. Slender figure, fair skin, high cheekbones, striking cobalt blue eyes and of course, long silky black hair tied up—didn't Lenalee say this was supposed to be a _guy_?

The lack of chest. Right.

"Kanda-kun, this is Allen Walker, the one I was telling you about," Lenalee was saying, pulling Allen closer.

"Allen, this is Kanda-kun. Kanda Yuu."

"It's nice to meet you, Kanda-san," Allen bowed politely, smiling.

Unfortunately this Kanda only snorted, a condescending expression on his pretty features. "What's up with old man hair?" he sneered, crossing his arms as he scrutinised the scrawny kid. "And his fucking face is weird."

"Kanda-kun!" Lenalee rolled her eyes, slapping his shoulder. "Play nice."

"Why should I?" Kanda scoffed, barging past them all to enter the house. "He's just a _Moyashi_."

Even though Allen had received many similar comments about his appearance before, he usually ignored it, but this time, when it was coming from someone who was supposed to be _Lenalee's_ friend—he just couldn't help the surge of irritation that flamed.

"I'm not a Moyashi!" he insisted, whipping around to shout at the back of this new rude person.

Kanda paused in his steps, giving him a cool glance. "I could care less. Don't talk to me."

Allen scowled, narrowing his eyes. This person reminded him of Cross, and he didn't like that thought very much.

"I'm sorry about that," Lenalee patted his arm when they both watched Kanda disappear into the kitchen.

"You said he was _nice_."

"Well," she looked slightly guilty. "I swear he is! Just that he's got this thing about not showing his true feelings. Just give him a chance?"

At her hopeful expression, he couldn't say no.

* * *

><p>He tried.<p>

For Lenalee's sake he really did try to get along with this _Kanda Yuu_.

"So…how did you meet Lenalee?" he asked, trying to strike up a decent conversation.

"Why are you still talking to me?" Kanda demanded. "Go and fall off a cliff."

"I'm trying to be nice to you!"

"Go bother someone else who actually cares."

"You…are the most contemptible person I've ever met."

"Really? I don't fucking care."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Prick."

"Fuckoff."

"Twat."

"Old man."

"Little girl."

"What the fuck did you say?"

"You do look like girl—" Allen suddenly found himself viciously yanked forward by the collar.

"I dare you to repeat that," Kanda hissed, fist raised. "You have no right to call me anything, you fucking short brat."

"So what if I'm short?" the white haired boy demanded, ignoring the fact that his life is in danger. "I'll _grow_."

Kanda smirked, eyes narrowing. "Is that what you tell yourself?" he mocked cruelly.

Allen gritted his teeth, very tempted to hit the other—but he promised Lenalee that he would _try_—perhaps she'd accept the excuse that his hand slipped.

"I don't even know why Lenalee is friends with a person like you," he muttered eventually, huffing.

Kanda dropped him uncaringly. "Isn't it obvious?" he scoffed, crossing his arms.

"What?"

Allen never hated anyone so much as Kanda Yuu, especially when the other smirked darkly with the most smug and infuriating expression that he had the displeasure to actually witness.

"She likes me."

There was a minute of shell-shocked silence until Kanda scoffed, sauntering away, but Allen just couldn't move.

There was just no way.

There was just absolutely no way that Lenalee would ever _like_ someone like—

He clenched his fists tightly, narrowing his eyes. He treated Lenalee better than Kanda Yuu ever would. Why Lenalee was even friends with this…this…_douche bag_ was clearly beyond him. Before he knew it, he already acknowledged the fact that he was jealous—and he hadn't even realised he was in love with her yet.

* * *

><p><strong>Owari.<strong>

I apologise for taking so long with this. :/ It's so much harder to write Allena that I had to force myself to sit down and complete this chapter before meddling with **Cantarella** hahaha

See, there's always a perfectly good reason why Allen doesn't like Kanda. :D

I sort of like the Cross/Allen kin-hate-ship. Cross does care _a lot_ about the boy (with good reason of course) just that he's a jackass, so he acts half sweet and half…like an ass. Well.


End file.
